


Shifted for you to reach for me

by Linisen



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: A whisker away au, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Magic, Depressed Victor Nikiforov, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Kissing, M/M, Makka being the best girl, Mutual Pining, Shapeshifting, Summer of mutual pining, miyau (мяу)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:47:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25197184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linisen/pseuds/Linisen
Summary: “Interested in a mask?” a man asked in perfect english, and Victor jerked slightly, having been caught up in looking at the beautifully painted masks. “A fox one might suit you well.”____________Victor buys a cat mask at a stall at Matsuri, which turns him into a cat. It works wonderfully, since it allows him to get cuddles from Yuuri who’s otherwise keeping him at arm's length. As Victor continues to doubt himself as a coach and his and Yuuri’s relationship, turning into a cat helps him feel free and allows him wonderful cuddles from both Makka and Yuuri. It’s his only escape from his sinking confidence, until one day the mask stops working.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 34
Kudos: 204





	Shifted for you to reach for me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lisettola](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lisettola/gifts).



> For Lisettola, who wanted a Victuuri AU based on the movie ‘A whisker away’. I hope you enjoy it.   
> Beta read by the amazing [Abby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/japansace/pseuds/japansace).

The air was hot and humid, and Victor flicked his wrist over and over to cool himself with the fan in his hand. He had bought it from one of the first stalls he came across as he had entered the market, a sweet girl smiling towards him,communicating with him through broken English and hand gestures what the item cost. Victor was still not really sure about the currency--or what a reasonable price was for anything--he might have been swindled more times than he could count since he came to Japan. He didn’t care too much though. It wasn’t as if he was indulging in that many things. Most of his time was spent at Yu-topia or Ice Castle after all, and he didn’t mind paying a little extra. He had a solid amount in his bank account, the money there rarely touched. His entire life had been dedicated to skating, building up savings for the day he retired or got injured. He bought designer brands and made sure Makka got the best food and grooming, but he wasn’t a big spender. He could let himself indulge now. 

Even though the sun was setting, the temperature was still well above twenty, and Victor, who had lived in Russia his entire life, struggled with the heat and humidity, used to much dryer climates. Sure, Saint Petersburg could have hot days as well, but it was never this dense, and he reveled in the relief the fan gave, even if it wasn’t a lasting one. Scattered rainfall came now and then, only increasing the muggy air, and Victor wondered if taking a dip in the ocean would help cool him or only make it worse. Makka panted next to him, and he ran his fingers through her fur, her tongue lolling out at the sensation. 

“You want to go in deeper?” he asked, and she boofed, following loyaly in between the stalls as Victor continued to explore. The market was beautiful, lanterns lighting up the night, food sizzling on the grill making the air smell amazing. Victor wanted to try all of it, even the kinds that looked strange and maybe even a bit disgusting--not that he would say that to the vendors, but some things really looked strange. It didn’t mean it didn’t taste wonderful though, and Victor trekked between the neatly placed rows of stalls, smelling, looking, tasting, taking it all in. He was sure he was acting like a real foreigner, but people were kind nonetheless.He was surprised how much communication one could do without actually speaking or understanding the words. 

Not that it helped him and Yuuri communicate effectively.

Victor sighed, sitting down on the bench to rest his feet. Hiroko-- _ please Vicchan call me Okasan _ \--had insisted he go out to see the festival tonight, even though it would span over the entire month of July. She was one of the warmest people that Victor had ever met, and even if they, too, had trouble understanding each other from time to time, she was kind and tried her best. Victor was incredibly grateful. With Yuuri, it was an entirely different matter. 

Victor had come here to Hasetsu after months of wallowing in the fact that he hadn’t gotten Yuuri’s phone number and the fact that no one he knew seemed to have it either. Even Chris, who knew everyone and was friends with everyone, didn’t have it. Yuuri, as it turned out, was an extremely private person. There was no social media to reach out to--at least not one that was more active than the spare “thank you for all your support during my latest competition,” and Victor hadn't dared try to reach out to any of those, because he wasn’t sure those were run by Yuuri or his coach or even a publicist. This left Victor with no means to contact Yuuri, wallowing in despair over how the pretty boy who had stolen his heart at a banquet in Sochi and never called, much like the prince in the Cinderella story, left only with the photos from that night to hold onto. He had left his number with Yuuri. Yuuri didn’t call, and Victor despared. 

He had held onto a sliver of hope that even though Yuuri had fell on as many jumps during his nationals event as at the Grand Prix Final--Victor having watched the steam from his laptop on his couch with tears streaming down his face--he would still be at Worlds. Of course he wasn’t, and there it became clear that Celestino Ciladini wasn’t coaching him anymore either. Yuuri was without a coach, and all Victor wanted was for him to call or text or send him  _ anything. _ Anything at all, and he would come.

In the months between Sochi and Worlds, Victor did his homework. He studied Yuuri’s past performances, and soon he had notebooks filled with ideas and notes, changes that could be made, improvements to work on, and whatever else seemed to stump him. Yuuri was a gorgeous skater, and it was obvious he was a dancer too, graceful and fluid in his movements. His step sequences always took Victor’s breath away, and his Ina Bauers were so deep they made Victor’s heart rush in his chest. Yuuri was beautiful on the ice, his artistry perfection.

His jumps? Not so much.

There seemed to be hesitation interlaced with Yuuri’s jumps--just a breath before he took off--and then he would slip as he landed, a hand touching the ice or sometimes tumbling altogether, hitting the ice roughly. Yuuri always pushed himself up again. He seemed even more stubborn than Victor was, never giving up, always fighting, always pushing himself until he stood in the middle of the ice in his ending pose, chest heaving, sometimes with tears burning in his eyes. Yuuri clearly had the strength, the willpower, and the ability to grasp the technique to make successful jumps--so why was he failing? 

Coming to Hasetsu was like a cold shower, and the memory of a drunk, flushed, clingy Yuuri that dipped him so low his stomach filled with butterflies faded as he was faced with a stuttering, averting, distant man who couldn’t seem to look at Victor for more than a second at a time. It hurt, and Victor might have made comments on Yuuri’s weight based on his own battered heart, which was something he almost immediately came to regret. Treating Yuuri unkindly wouldn’t get them anywhere, and even if his relationship with Yuuri felt like a minefield, filled with trigger points that might leave Yuuri jetting off away from him, Yuuri had sent him a sign and Victor had come, and that was something. At least Victor told himself that as he cried himself to sleep at night, arms wrapped around Makka, tears wetting his cheeks and her fur as she tried to lick them away. A few rough weeks had passed, Yura coming to disrupt the peace but amp up Yuuri’scompetitive spirit and then left to later go on to fight them both with vengeance. Victor couldn’t wait to see it. Things had gotten better between them then, after Yuuri proclaimed that he wanted Victor to be himself that day on the beach. The gesture had felt so momentous at the time, but now it left Victor with uncertainty.

They were getting closer, but for each day that passed, Victor got more and more sure that Yuuri didn’t feel the same as him. They were becoming friends--coach and student--but not lovers. Yuuri walked closer to him but never reached out to touch; Yuuri smiled more, but he did so towards everyone; Yuuri worked harder on the ice, but he didn’t open up. It hurt Victor more than he had any right to feel. He had no right to Yuuri’s love or heart, no matter if Yuuri had stolen his in a night of drunken dancing and laughter and warmth. Yuuri had never promised him anything--Victor had only hoped--but it seemed it had been in vain. He had let his heart run away with him, and now he had to pay the price for getting too caught up in his own head. Yakov always called him a romantic, too easily swayed by his heart, his drive and inspiration--and it was true. It was just hard to accept this loss when Yuuri was so sweet, so lovely, so close, and yet so unreachable. 

Victor wasn’t sure what to do with this slow heartbreak. Would he be able to continue coaching Yuuri like this, his heart broken in his chest as he pined for Yuuri, so close but never close enough? He wasn’t sure. Everyone seemed to think he was made out of ice, stone-hard and unbreakable, able to withstand jumps and spins with just slight nicks in the outward facade. He wasn’t. It had just been easier to hide behind the mask as not to be hurt so much. Victor had never been good at relationships, most of his life dedicated to the ice. The ones he had ventured into in the past had been short lived: a summer fling for the off season, a fall flame that died under the crushing cold of competition. Too clingy, too dedicated to his work, never enough. It didn’t matter if he dedicated his entire time to them or if he focused on competition; either way, he never ended up being good enough. He had hoped it would be different with Yuuri, but now he was losing hope. 

Yuuri came closer and then ran away, and Victor was left standing there with his heart in his hand, wondering what he could do to make things right, to make things feel like the banquet again. Would it ever? It felt like a distant dream now. 

“Let’s go check the other stalls, Makka,” he said, and she boofed, pulling away from his leg where he had been resting her head as he contemplated, always so loyal and loving. He stood and they walked down a new row of stalls.Victor stopped at one that sold masks, ones of vibrant reds, whites and greens. Victor looked in amazement at the assorted items, some depicting demons and human faces, others foxes and other animals. 

“Interested in a mask?” a man asked in perfect english, and Victor jerked slightly, having been caught up in looking at the beautifully painted masks. “A fox one might suit you well.” His grin was wide, brown eyes gleaming as he leaned over the edge of the wooden stall. He must have been in his thirties, traditionally dressed for the festival much like most the stall-keepers and festival-goers. Victor sticking out in his shorts and t-shirt. 

“Do you have any of a poodle?” Victor asked looking down at Makka. The man laughed as Makka boofed again. She was standing slightly behind Victor, as though shy.. She was usually so curious about things but interestingly sat back. He petted her slowly. Perhaps she was getting tired, and they should get back so she could rest. 

“No poodle ones, no,” he said, and Victor looked back at him just in time to catch his charming grin. He seemed to study Victor for a moment, head tilted to his side, eyes intent, before he turned away. “I think I have something that would fit you perfectly though.” 

“Really?” Victor asked, eyebrow quirked up. He really had no need for a mask, no matter how pretty they were. Perhaps he could hang it up on the wall in the banquet room. It was fully unpacked now after all, all the things Victor had found worthy to bring with him to Hasetsu unboxed and on display. As if it was his home, even if it might never be. 

“Yes, how do you feel about cats?” the man asked and turned with a grin, presenting a white mask with blue markings. It was beautiful, different shades of blue creating patterns, a few black accents creating depth.The one thing that stood out the most was its pink nose. Victor was drawn to it, hand reaching out to touch, stopping himself just before his fingers grazed the mask, the man pulling it away. Victor looked up at him with wide eyes.The shopkeeper smiled at him with a wink. “I take it you like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” Victor said, looking back down at the mask. Beside him, Makka whined. “Do you make them?”

“My grandmother does, and it’s her greatest joy in life,” he said, fingers caressing tenderly over the cheeks of the mask. “I am sure she would be happy to hear of someone enjoying it so much they make a purchase.”

Victor swallowed and looked down at the mask again. It was really pretty, and he did enjoy supporting those who crafted things themselves. Victor nodded and handed the money over, the man smiling brightly. “Come back if you have any questions,” he said as he put the money away. “They say the masks can change you, after all. Maybe it will give you all your heart desires.”

An image of Yuuri flashed in Victor’s mind at the words, and his heart ached even as he smiled. “One can only hope,” Victor said, even if he thought this would in no way help his situation with Yuuri. Makka whined again, and he caressed her fur before thanking the vendor and turning away towards Yu-topia, mask in hand. He glanced down at it as he walked, stopping on an empty walking path. There were two silk bands tied to the sides of it, and Victor pulled the mask to his face, whipping his fringe away from his face before tying the bands on the back of his head. The mask was cool against his skin--and then warm. Too warm. Victor gasped as it almost burned. He grabbed for the bands, but they seemed to no longer be there, his form shrinking, until he was sitting down on the pavement, staring up at Makka’s large brown eyes. She whined again, and Victor reached out towards her, his mind feeling hazy and dizzy, only to come up short. The only thing he could see in front of him was a white soft paw, pink toe beans as he turned it.  _ What? _

Makka leaned forward, and her head was so big now, as if Victor had shrunk, and sniffed him, before boofing happily and licking his face. It didn’t feel as wet as it usually did, and Victor opened his mouth to speak as he tried to wipe the dog saliva from his face only to meow instead of talk. He tried again, but only more frustrated meows came from his mouth. Victor tried to stand then, only to fall over. He looked down at himself, trying to figure out what had happened, only to see a long lush white tail, his whole body covered in white fur. He hissed in surprise, standing again--on all fours this time--to look around. He had been turned into a cat? How had he been turned into a  _ cat _ ? 

_ The mask.  _

Victor pawed at his face, frantic, and then at the back of his head until he felt his claw catch on something, and he pulled. The mask clattered to the ground, and Victor gasped, seeing his hands on the ground in front of him, the mask lying between them. He sat up abruptly, fingers caressing over his face--his very human face--and let out a sigh of relief. That was  _ insane _ . Had it really happened? Victor looked at the mask tentatively, reaching out again. The mask felt just like it had before, cool, and Victor ran his fingers over it. He must have imagined it, right? 

He picked up the mask again, and then tied it, the rush of warmth overwhelming him again as he shrunk, fur sprouting all over his body, clothes exchanged for white, soft hair. Victor caressed a paw over his face, his ear, and oh, that felt  _ good _ . He had to scratch it a bit, just to keep the luxuriate in the feeling. Makka boofed by his side again, laying on the ground with her head lowered, watching. Oh, poor girl. 

Victor walked over, carefully balanced so as not to fall, and then bumped his head against hers, stroking. It felt like the most natural thing to do in this form, a purr rumbling from his chest as he stroked her in this new way. Makka boofed again but sounded far less distressed now, headbutting him back softly. Victor pawed at her head, and Makka seemed to lighten up, rolling over onto her stomach to grab for him playfully. Victor meowed again, pawing at her face and jumping up and down. Makka boofed, and Victor recognized that playful gleam in her eye, the one he so often saw when he played tugging games or fetch. He jumped off and walked around her, watching as she turned, head down, butt up, tail wagging as she waited and watched. Victor folded himself down too, feeling his tail snake up towards the air, balancing, and then he shot forward, booping her on her black nose, before darting away. Makka barked and then gave chase, Victor rushing forward, stopping to drop down again. Makka did the same, and adrenaline rushed through Victor’s body as he watched her before rushing forward again, just escaping her big paw as it reached for him. They chased after each other again, rushing towards Yu-topia as they played. Makka was quick for her age, and Victor jumped up on benches they came across, getting a feel for this new body. This was fun in a strange way, and Victor deeply enjoyed the chase, the freedom of just running around and not having a care in the world. 

They reached Yu-topia panting, and Victor circling Makka and cuddling her again. It wasn’t quite the same as when he was human, but this was still very soft, very sweet, and Victor enjoyed getting to be close to her like this. It felt a little like when he was a teen, and she was  _ so big _ . It felt like before his growth spurt, when it felt like she could cover him entirely. 

A door opened behind them, and Victor looked over towards the sound, his eyes widening as he spotted Yuuri walking out. He was in a pair of soft shorts and a T-shirt, his dark hair falling softly over his forehead. Victor couldn’t see his expression, the light coming from behind him, but he seemed to see them, kneeling down. 

“Hi, Makka,” he called, and Makkachin left Victor’s side so easily, trotting over to where Yuuri was waiting. “What are you doing? Have you made a friend?” 

She had loved him from first sight, and Victor couldn’t blame her. Yuuri always got a soft smile on his face as he petted her, wistful. He had looked incredibly sad every time he looked at her the first few weeks after they came to Yu-topia, and for a while Victor had wondered if Yuuri didn’t like dogs. He was soon proven wrong however, with how often Yuuri fed her scraps, took her running, and cuddled her. Makka was drawn to Yuuri, and Yuuri always welcomed her warmly, cooing softly in Japanese. Victor had found the shrine for a small poodle a little while later, Yuuri in kid-size holding it, and it had been so easy to understand then. Yuuri was mourning, but he loved Makka, and she loved him back. 

“Who do you have there?” Yuuri asked, and Victor approached slowly, his tail high as he approached. “Oh, what a pretty boy. Hi, kitty,” Yuuri cooed, and even though Victor knew Yuuri didn’t know it was him, the compliment warmed him deep in his chest. He took more sure steps towards him, heart pounding, even more so when Yuuri reached out his hand. He smelled it first, and Yuuri stayed still, before Victor took another step closer, rubbing his head against it, a low purr rumbling from his chest. Yuuri’s hand felt wonderful as he petted him. His purr only increased as Yuuri caressed over his head and back, scratching at his ear. 

“What a pretty kitty, yes, yes, you are,” Yuuri said before sitting down, so he could pet the both of them simultaneously. Makka rested her head on Yuuri’s thigh, and Yuuri turned to her, hand stopping its pets in Victor’s fur. Victor pouted and then meowed in complaint, Yuuri turning back to him just as Victor pawed at his hand. “Oh, did I forget you? Sorry,” Yuuri laughed soft and sweet, and it was so incredibly lovely to hear. Victor had longed to hear him laugh like that, the way he had laughed that night in Sochi, and even if it wasn’t the same, it came so close. Victor purred even louder in satisfaction, curling down into Yuuri’s lap as he petted the both of them. 

“Where is Victor?” Yuuri asked, and Victor turned his head to him, only to see that Yuuri was talking to Makka. “I thought he took you out to the festival? Did he already come back? I didn’t see him.”

Makka boofed, and Yuuri humed as if in understanding, fingers dragging through both of their fur. “Maybe I should go look for him, see if he hasn’t melted in the heat. It’s important to stay hydrated. Even if the weather is humid, it’s still important. I’m sure he ate lots of food at the market too,” Yuuri said with a soft smile. “Did you get some treats too Makka-chan?” he cooed, and Makka looked at him with her big brown eyes, tongue lolling out happily. Yuuri laughed again, and Victor watched, even as he laid curled up on Yuuri’s lap. It was such a joy to see them together, and to get to be close like this? Even better. “I should go see if I can find him,” Yuuri said after a moment, sighing heavily, and Victor’s heart ached. Was it such a nuance for Yuuri to come talk to him? He didn’t want that. He wanted Yuuri to be as relaxed and happy like he had been just moments ago. 

Yuuri grabbed him from his lap and carefully put him down on the ground, even as Victor protested loudly with sharp meows. “I’m sorry,” Yuuri said, his brown eyes insanely pretty as he smiled. “Humans have responsibilities, and I have to go tend to those. I’m glad Makka has a friend though, so I hope you will come back.” 

With that, he stood, and Makka trotted after him happily, Victor sitting down to watch them retreat back into the house. He felt a mix of emotions rushing through his body then, because on one hand, cuddling Yuuri had been beyond amazing, but on the other, it was such a stark difference from how Yuuri acted around him as a human. Just now, Yuuri had been comfortable, at ease and relaxed, smiling and laughing. Around Victor--human Victor--Yuuri was tense and closed up. What was Victor really doing here, invading Yuuri’s personal space and his home, if all he did was make Yuuri uncomfortable? 

He sighed and shook his head from where it hung low. He slipped the mask off, his body complaining as it changed form, burning and pulsating, the mask clattering to the ground. His legs and arms ached, and Victor was reminded of how many years he had spent hitting the ice at high speed on shoes made out of steel and leather, his joints taking the worst of the impact. He stretched and sighed, picking the mask up as he followed Yuuri inside. He took the hallway to the right, and soon he found himself in the corridor leading to his and Yuuri’s rooms, Yuuri just stepping out of Victor’s. 

“Oh!” he said, eyes wide in surprise. Victor could see his body locking up, shoulders drawn up towards his ears, taking half a step back. “Victor. Hi. Sorry for going in your room I just-- Makka came home and I didn’t see you so I didn’t know if you had too.”

“That’s very sweet of you, Yuuri, thank you,” Victor said with a smile, starting to walk forward again. Yuuri pulled back even more once Victor reached him, staying but well out of arm's length. Victor felt the phantom touch of his hand as he had patted him, and it twisted in his stomach, and he had to swallow around the tightness of his throat. 

“Did--did you have fun at the festival?” Yuuri asked as Victor walked into the room, and when Victor turned he caught Yuuri looking down at the mask. “That’s pretty,” he said, looking back up at Victor with a tight smile. 

“Yes, one of the stall owners said his grandmother makes them,” Victor said, suddenly wondering if the stall owner knew he was selling magical masks or if that had been his intention all along. What had he said? That the mask could change who he was? Give him what he desired? It was generic enough to fit a simple mask without the ability to transform someone, but now that Victor had experienced its magic twice, the comment seemed almost too on the nose not to be intentional. “Do you want to come in?” he asked, silently begging Yuuri to say yes. He wasn’t planning on telling Yuuri about his earlier transformation, because he really didn’t want to scare Yuuri more than he already clearly was, but it could be nice just to talk. 

“No, that’s okay,” Yuuri said, waving his hand dismissively, voice airy as he took half a step back. “I just wanted to check that you were all right, a--and to make sure you drink some water, if you ate a lot at the festival. I don’t want you to get dehydrated.”

Victor’s heart sunk in his chest, but he plastered on a smile. He had practiced this expression so many times it came without thought now, a shield to protect him from pain or at least from others seeing it. It was probably why so many thought nothing ever affected him. Of course it did; he was just excellent at hiding it, then letting it all rush over him once he was alone. 

“Thank you, Yuuri. See you in the morning then? For a run and then skate practice?” Victor said, and Yuuri nodded, a small and tight smile on his face. 

“Good night, Victor,” he said before starting to retreat towards his own room, still turned slightly towards Victor, as though lingering. A part of Victor wanted to chase him, ask if he wanted to come in again and ask if Yuuri wanted to have a sleepover. He didn't though. He bit his tongue and smiled, cat mask clenched in his hand. 

“Good night, Yuuri. See you in the morning, bright and early.” Yuuri nodded before finally turning, leaving Victor to stare at his back as he retreated into his room and shut the door. Victor slumped against his doorframe, sighing heavily as he looked up at the ceiling. 

“What should I do, Makka?” he asked, and Makka came to headbut his leg, always the comfort Victor needed. “Maybe being a cat is better, hm?” he asked, but she simply panted, looking up at him with her large brown eyes. He sighed again, and then walked into his room and shut the door, starting to get ready for bed. 

  
  


“Push harder into the jump, Yuuri!” Victor called from his side as Yuuri came down from a quad salchow, fingers grazing the ice to steady himself before he straightened. It had been a fairly solid attempt, but Yuuri still hesitated just a breath before taking off, and it threw off his balance. “You can do it. I know you can.” 

“I need a minute,” Yuuri said with laboured breath, looping around him to go for his water bottle. Victor watched with pinched brows. Yuuri rarely asked for breaks, so Victor had made sure to incorporate them, since Yuuri ran himself ragged if Victor didn’t. They hadn’t even been at this for long, he realised, as he glanced up at the clock. Was Yuuri not feeling well?

“Is something wrong?” Victor asked, but Yuuri shook his head, taking deep gulps of water before putting the bottle back. Victor didn’t really believe him. “You can tell me. I am your coach.” 

“I said it’s nothing,” Yuuri sighed, that wall up again, and Victor sighed too, rubbing his forehead with his hands. Why was this so difficult? 

“Again?” Yuuri’s tone had a sharpness to it, and Victor wanted to know what he did wrong. He couldn’t be good enough to be Yuuri’s boyfriend, and clearly, he couldn’t be good enough to be his coach either.

“Yes, again,” Victor said, trying and failing to keep his frustration over himself from his voice. “With confidence now, Yuuri.”

He watched as Yuuri built momentum, circling the ice to gain speed. He was so beautiful, hair whipping around his head, eyes determined, jaw set. Even when he was angry, he was too terribly, heartbreakingly pretty, and Victor’s heart ached with each push of the ice he did. He deserved better. He deserved someone who knew how to coach him to win gold, because Victor knew he could, knew he had it in him to be extraordinary. Maybe Victor should call Yakov, to see if he could get some pointers. He didn’t think Yakov’s teaching style of constant yelling would work on Yuuri, but maybe he had some wisdom to share, in so that Victor could live up to what Yuuri deserved. 

Yuuri got in position, took a deep breath, and hesitated again before he took off, blade disappearing under him as he hit the ice, landing on his butt. Victor hissed in sympathy. He was sure that hurt and would hurt tomorrow worse still. 

“You okay?” he called, starting to make his way over, but Yuuri was already pushing up, even as he looked even more crestfallen now, nodding. “You want to take a break?”

“No, I want to do it again,” Yuuri gritted, and Victor pulled back, watching as he built up speed once more. “I want to get this right.”

“All right,” Victor agreed, mind spinning with how he could do more, be better, without finding any answers at all.

  
  


Yuuri was quiet as they made their way back after practice. They had stayed on the ice for the entire morning, shared a lunch in the entrance, and then used an old dance room to stretch. Yuuri had fallen two more times before landing the jump without touching down. It had been shaky, but he had been upright and clean in terms of points, and Victor praised him endlessly as they stretched. Yuuri had said very little, so Victor had let his mouth run away with him to fill the silence. He still wasn’t sure if it was something Yuuri appreciated or not. 

He left Yuuri at Minako’s, Yuuri wanting to dance alone in the afternoon with an agreement of seeing each other later. Victor walked back to Yu-topia by himself and shuffled into his own room, landing on the bed with a sigh. He hated feeling this unsure all the time, as if nothing he did was right. He had crafted a good place for himself in figure skating, and at this point, he knew which programs would wow a crowd and which wouldn’t, how to tweak and push and move elements to surprise his audience. He hadn’t felt this out of his depth in a long time, and it was exhausting. 

He glanced to the side, looking for something to distract himself with so he wouldn’t have to think about how much his heart ached or how he was not measuring up as a coach just as Yakov said he wouldn’t, and caught sight of the cat mask on the table. He had placed it there last night when he came back, falling into bed after finishing his nightly skin routine and hadn’t thought much about it since, too distracted by Yuuri’s presence by his side, thinking and overthinking each and every move he said or did. 

His fingers twitched.

He didn’t have anything more planned today, except a soak in the onsen once Yuuri came back and dinner with the Katsukis, and it was hours until then. He had to keep occupied somehow, and with Makka left with Mari down in the dining room, Victor could explore a bit more in his cat-like shape.

If it still worked, of course. 

He rolled off the bed and reached for the mask, pushing his fringe away from his face just like yesterday before putting it on. It was easy work to tie the ribbons together, and the now somewhat familiar heat of changing rushed through his body, scalding and then simmering, leaving him covered in white fur and in a much smaller form than before. Victor meowed and smiled to himself, glancing around. He caught sight of the full-body mirror leaning against one of the walls, and he jumped off the bed, feeling a little off balance as he landed but didn’t fall, then walked over to it to get a better look. It was strange to walk up to a mirror and see not his usual reflection but that of a cat’s. Victor pressed his paw to the cool surface, watching the reflection do the same before he sat down to examine himself. 

Yuuri had been right. He was a very pretty cat. His fur was completely white, long and laying as if perfectly combed. His eyes were dazzling blue just like they always were, and his nose was a pretty pink. He dragged his paw over it, his long and fluffy tail flickering behind him, ears twitching. Yes. Very pretty indeed. 

Soon, prancing around the mirror got dull, and Victor headed out to explore, jumping down the known hallway outside of the onsen. It was strange to see rooms he knew so well from this perspective. Everything was so big and weirdly scaled, and he struggled coming down the stairs, having trouble finding a rhythm. He managed to make it down eventually and then spotted the open door. Perfect. 

He trotted out into the afternoon, the sun feeling warm against his fur, and then took off running, jumping and rushing and climbing. Being a cat was fun, and even if some humans shooed him away as they saw him, many stopped and wanted to pet him, telling him how pretty he was. Victor preened under the praise, bumping his head against their hands before he moved on or simply passing them byVictor didn’t mind either way. There was so much to explore, and he climbed high up in trees to get a better vantage point, only to jump down with no pain in his knees whatsoever. It was wonderful. 

He met a few other cats as he adventured around town, but they seemed to know he was not a real cat and stayed away from him. One even hissed. Victor got a bit frightened but didn't let it show. He could always take the mask off if he wanted to, after all. He ran around along the stalls of the festival market and ate a few scraps dropped on the ground, the treats just as tasty as when he bought them the night before. The festival felt less cozy in the daylight, but people were in good spirits, and Victor, after eating himself full on squid and chicken, curled up on a patch of grass a little bit away from all the commotion, and fell asleep, warmed by the sun. When he woke up, it was getting darker, and he stood and stretched, shaking out his legs, before he chased back to Yu-topia. Running as a cat was incredibly freeing, and Victor extended his body, enjoying the way the wind rushed through his fur. 

He made it back into the onsen without anyone seeming to notice, and going up the stairs was a little easier than coming down them. Makka was there to greet him as he ascended, and he felt so very happy to see her, head budding and stroking himself along her side. 

“Makka, did you bring your friend in?” Yuuri asked, and Victor looked up, seeing Yuuri come up from the bottom of the stairs, towel wrapped around his shoulders as water dropped from his hair. Oh, did he miss bathing time? Damn. “Hi, kitty, nice to see you again,” Yuuri cooed, and Victor turned to him, letting him scratch behind his ears. It felt heavily, and Victor pressed up into the touch, leaning forward his front paws until they left the floor to get more of Yuuri’s touch. Yuuri laughed, soft and sweet, and Victor purred louder, chasing his hand as he retreated. “You’re so cuddly. Yes, you are,” Yuuri said, and then he grabbed Victor under his front legs, lifting him into his arms. 

Victor melted, Yuuri continuing to pet him as he walked down the hall. He stopped to glance into Victor’s room, left open as he ran down, and another sigh fell from his lips. “Not here today it seems. Maybe he went to the market again,” Yuuri commented, his hand stroking Victor over the head. Yuuri looked into the room for a moment longer, and Victor looked at his face, trying to make out what he was thinking. Yuuri was such a puzzle, one he didn’t seem to have any means to figure out. Yuuri took another deep breath, and then started walking again, carrying Victor into his room. Makka followed happily, and Yuuri settled Victor down into the bed once he reached it. Victor’s heart raced. How many times had he dreamed of laying in Yuuri’s bed, preferably carried by Yuuri there? Countless. It wasn’t quite as he had imagined it, but he would take what he could get. Makka jumped up after him and curled around him, and Victor cuddled close, feeling warm and safe here. 

“Oh my god, you two look so cute,” Yuuri cooed, and Victor was really starting to love hearing Yuuri sound like that. He raised his phone to take a few photos before laying down next to them. Yuuri petted them for a while, but then Hiroko called him down for food, and Yuuri pushed himself up again. “See you later,” he said, giving them both a pat before leaving. Makka jumped off and followed, and Victor revealed in the feeling of warmth that had just been there before he sat up and shook the mask off. His bones ached as he turned human again, and he picked up the mask, putting it back into his room before going down to the family dining room. 

“Victor,” Yuuri said, eyes slightly wide. He straightened, but he didn’t look upset, so whatever was troubling him earlier might have subdued now. “I didn’t see you as I went down.”

“I was in the bathroom,” he said with a smile, then sat down next to Yuuri, trying not to let it hurt as Yuuri shuffled away slightly. It did anyway. 

Dinner was pleasant, as if often was, but soon Victor found himself in his room alone, Makka having followed Yuuri into his room as he said good night. Victor sat down heavily on his bed and picked up his phone, and pressed the first favorite-marked contact. The dial rang out but went unanswered. Victor tired again, but was met with the line cutting off instead. He sighed. Maybe Yakov was busy training. He had a lot on his plate after all, and it wouldn’t surprise Victor if he didn’t have time to talk to him right now. He would probably call back. Victor did his evening routine slowly, then called once more before bed, receiving no answer. He crawled under the covers, and when he woke up, he had no missed calls. 

  
  


Life continued like that. He continued to try to coach Yuuri, and even if Yuuri improved, Victor felt like he should be able to do more, like there was still this wall between them he couldn’t manage to tear down. He continued to reach out to Yakov without receiving any answer or call back, and with every day that passed, it hurt even more, like a dull ache constantly present in his chest. Yakov had been his family, if Victor ever had any, and to be completely ignored felt much harsher than he had expected. Everything felt heavy and painful, and the only solace he had was when he slipped the cat mask on, so he could be free, run without worry or pain, so he could see Yuuri’s wonderful smile. All the pain was worth it as long as he could have this small part of Yuuri.

Until he couldn’t.

One night, Victor slipped the mask on but didn’t turn. He blinked, the warm sensation missing, and he took off the mask and looked it over, but nothing seemed to be at fault. He tried again and again, until panic started rising in his chest. What if he couldn’t turn? What if he never could again? His throat felt tight, and he rushed out the door, hurrying to the market. 

The festival had been going for almost three weeks now, and Victor hadn’t been back in his human form since, even if he had spent a considerable time as a cat here, exploring. He found the mask stall easily, and he felt out of breath, panicked and scared as he walked up, hands almost slamming into the top of it. The vendor jerked in surprised and then turned, eyebrows raised. 

“Can I help you?” he asked, and then his eyes fell on the mask, and then drifted back to Victor. A smile curled on his lips. “Ah, have you been enjoying that?”

“It stopped working,” Victor said, not hanging onto pretense. “Why?” 

“Oh, yes, you see,” the vendor said, that charming smile curling on his face again. “You can’t have it all. The masks only carry so much magic.”

“So you’re saying I can’t--” Victor cut himself off, throat tight. He couldn’t say it; it felt too heavy. He had gained so much from this escapism, and now it was being ripped from him, leaving a dark pool of nothingness in his chest. 

“Not like before, no,” the man said, hand dancing over the mask. He studied the mask for a moment, and then looked up into Victor's eyes again. “There is another way though.” 

“How?” Victor asked desperately. His chest ached. He couldn’t stand it, not for a second longer. 

“You have to choose. You either stay human, or you stay cat. You can have all the freedom you crave, all the things you have loved experiencing, if you just give me your face in return for the cat’s.” 

Victor stared, heart hammering in his chest. “What?”

“You’ll be a cat fully by the end of Matsuri, your human life transferred to me… It’s the price to pay,” he said, and everything was ringing in Victor’s ears, too loud and too painful. He didn’t want to go back to where everything was a struggle, with no warmth. Makka would be fine, Yuuri would take care of her; the Katsuki’s would too. Yuuri was so talented, so strong. He would be better off without Victor as a coach, making him uncomfortable, and Yakov--he would probably be happy if Victor stopped bothering him with his calls. Everything would be better if Victor just... let go. 

“Yes, yes, I--I want to be a cat.”

The man smiled widely and grabbed the mask from the table, reaching underneath the bench to pull out another. “Excellent.” 

Victor reached for it with trembling fingers, and grabbed it tight. The man continued to smile, and Victor pulled the mask up to his face. This one seemed hot even as he pulled it towards his face, radiating heat. Victor paused, and then he thought of how happy Yuuri had looked last night, smiling as Victor lay curled on his chest. He wanted that. He wanted that more than anything. A tear slid down his cheek, and yet he pulled the mask to his face, the heat so overwhelming he could hardly stand it as he tied the mask around his head. A silent scream left his lips, and then he felt like his legs collapsed under him, everything turning dark. 

Victor woke slowly, blinking. The sky was dark above him, and he pawed at his eyes, trying to adjust. It must be late, the stalls closed and unlit. He stood and stretched. He was a few meters away from the market on a grass patch, but he couldn’t really remember how he had gotten there. He stretched again, shook his head and sat up, only to remember the conversation with the vendor and how he had traded his life for this. A rush of liberation filled him, and Victor stood, trotting the now known path towards Yu-topia. The night was cool, and it felt heavenly in comparison to the heat that had recently plagued the weather. Victor enjoyed it, playing with scattered stones he came across, sniffing around a little. It was a nice night, and Victor liked the feeling of freedom. He could do whatever he wanted now, didn’t have to worry about skating or coaching or other human things. He could just be a cat. He could just be Yuuri’s cat. Once he reached the onsen, he realised that all the doors and windows were closed, and for a moment, he pouted. He wanted Yuuri cuddles! Still, there wasn’t much he could do about it then, so instead he headed out to explore, letting his paws guide him in his adventure. 

  
  


The world was exciting for a cat, and Victor had a lot of fun exploring it, climbing high trees, stealing tasty food from where people dropped it, playing with a litter of kittens he found. He let his instincts guide him, and without really realizing it, another day passed and then another and then another before Victor returned to Yu-topia. He trotted happily through the door, glancing around before he bounded up the stairs. He was getting so good at this now!

Well there he froze, hearing violent sobs from Yuuri’s room. Dread filled Victor, and he rushed forward, pressing himself in through the little crack in the door. Yuuri was laying on the bed, sobbing, Makka whining at his feet. Victor hurried over, and Makka boofed happily as he saw him, headbutting against Yuuri’s chest. Yuuri’s sobs didn’t stop though; if anything they increased, even as he sat and held Makka close.

“I’m so sorry, Makka, I don’t--I don’t know where he is, and I--” Yuuri sniffled, his eyes bloodshot red, cheeks aflame, dark circles under his eyes. Makka whined, then looked back down at Victor who sat frozen on the floor. “Oh, hi, kitty,” Yuuri said, then let out another round of sobs. “It’s good you’ve come to keep Makka company. She misses her papa,” he said, voice trembling. He looked over at Makka, leaning his head against hers. “I miss him too.” Yuuri’s voice cracked, and Victor’s heart with it. He jumped up, pawing at Yuuri softly, trying to soothe him. He had never expected this, never thought Yuuri could be this upset. It was the last thing he wanted, after all. 

Yuuri’s phone started ringing, and Yuuri let out a shaky breath, picking it up. Victor crawled into his lap, headbutting his chest over and over. He wanted Yuuri to stop crying. He never meant for him to get hurt. 

“Yeah,” he answered, and then a hollow laugh left his throat. “No--no we haven’t. He hasn't--oh god, Phichit, what am I going to  _ do _ ? He’s just gone, and I--I love him so much and now he’s _ gone _ .” 

Yuuri sobbed again, fat tears cascading down his cheeks, and Victor felt shocked, staring up at Yuuri, unable to process what he had said. Yuuri loved him? Yuuri missed him and he loved him and he didn’t want Victor to go? Oh god, what had he  _ done _ ?

Victor pushed away from the bed and rushed down, pushing his legs to run as fast as he could to the market. He found the stall easily and jumped up on it, meowing loudly. He could see the mask of his own face hanging there, up high, and he meowed again, the vendor turning to him.

“Oh, hi, how is cat life?” he asked with that same grin, and Victor meowed again, trying to gesture to the mask of his face. The vendor didn’t even look. “Not going to happen, cat. You made a trade. Now scram.”

Victor felt his heart freeze in his chest, and then he hissed loudly, showing his sharp teeth. The vendor tsked, then grabbed a broom, hitting Victor in the chest with it so hard he fell off the cart. Victor hit the ground hard but scrambled up, only to see the vendor looking down at him. “You don’t get to be two hundred years by giving lives back. Too bad for you that you were so easy to fool. Have fun being a stray.” 

Victor stared for a moment, then rushed away, back towards Yu-topia. He needed help. He needed someone, and he needed to get them to understand or follow or  _ anything _ . He rushed up the stairs again, Yuuri’s sobs feeling like a knife in his heart. How could he be so dumb, so selfish? He had been so blinded by his own pain that he didn’t see Yuuri’s, didn’t understand it at all. If he had opened up, if he had told Yuuri how he felt instead of waiting for Yuuri’s walls to tumble down, things could have been so different. If he hadn’t kept his own defences up, he could have given Yuuri all the love he deserved. 

He stopped as soon as he reached the room, then he mewoed loudly, over and over, Makka looking at him with his head raised. Victor ran a few steps back and then mewoed again, Yuuri looking at him with wide eyes. Makka did too, and then she jumped off the bed in a rush.

Yes!

Victor ran down the hall, hearing Makka’s heavier paws hit the wood behind him, but he didn’t turn to look. He rushed down the stairs again and only then did he hear footsteps too, running after them.

“Makka!” Yuuri called, but Victor didn’t slow, and neither did Makkachin, both of them rushing down the path Victor had just run down and back already. Makka had long legs, and soon she caught up, both of them hurrying towards the market. Victor could hear Yuuri calling, running, and he felt so bad for him, that he couldn’t stop and explain, but he needed to fix this, needed to make things right. They reached the market, and Makka already seemed to know where to go, both of them stopping in front of the stall. They needed to hurry before Yuuri came and dragged Makka back; they needed to be smart, in so that they could get Victor’s face. Matsuri would be over tomorrow evening, and with it, all of Victor’s human life would be gone. 

He meowed. If Makka could distract the vendor, maybe he could try to knock the mask down. Makka looked at him, and he wasn’t sure if she understood or just acted like she did, but soon she was rushing forward, her paws hitting the booth so hard it rattled. The vendor gasped, and Victor snuck to the side as Makka hit her paws against the wood again.    
“Hey!” the vendor called, irritated, and Victor jumped up to the side, crouching down to take aim, and then lept. Makka’s paws hit the booth again, and the mask rattled, making it so much easier for Victor to push it off it’s hook. The mask flew forward, and Victor landed on the other side of the booth, jumping down in a rush. 

He heard the mask clatter to the ground, and he hurried to the front only to see Makka pick it up carefully in her mouth just as Yuuri reached them, panting and flushed. Makka boofed softly and then side stepped Yuuri as he tried to reach for what she had in her mouth and took off in a sprint again. 

“Makka!” Yuuri said sharply, the vendor screaming in Japanese after her, but Victor didn’t care. He gave chase, running after Makka even as his legs and lungs burned. He guessed that the vendor and Yuuri would follow, and they needed to hurry, find some place Victor could turn back. Oh god, he hoped he could. 

They skidded into the garden of Yu-topia, and there, Makka placed the mask carefully on the ground, pawing at it softly until it turned. Victor walked over, looking down into the large mask. He wasn’t sure how he would do this. The strings laid to the side, and there was no way he could tie them himself. He panted, his entire body aching. Makka boofed again, and just then Victor heard running steps, and he realised that it didn’t matter. He had to try. He just caught Yuuri’s eye as he came into the garden, and then he leaned down, pressing his nose and forehead to the inside of the mask. 

The air swirled around him, and he gasped, the wind ringing in his ears as he gulped in breath. He felt dizzy, out of place, and then something fell from his face to the ground, and he sat back on the ground hard, hands just catching him. He looked back, seeing his arms extend behind him, hands curling on the ground. Hands. He had hands. 

A breath of relief left him in a rush, and then he looked up, seeing Yuuri’s wide eyed gaze. His cheeks were still red, eyes bloodshot. He was beautiful. 

“Yuuri,” he breathed, and another sob left Yuuri’s lips as he rushed forward, collapsing into Victor’s lap. Victor sait up straighter, wrapping his arms around Yuuri as he sobbed into his chest, hands fisted in Victor's shirt.

“Victor I--I thought,” Yuuri gasped, and tears burned in Victor’s eyes too, and as he carefully tilted Yuuri’s face up, they started spilling over his cheeks. 

“I’m so sorry,” he said, and another sob left Yuuri’s lips as he moved his hands from Victor’s back, starting to try to wipe the tears away from Victor’s cheeks, even as more flowed. “I thought you didn’t want me. I felt like all I did was fail you, and it hurt so much, because Yuuri, you deserve the world, and I felt like I was just holding you back.”

“Holding me back! You became a cat because you thought you were holding me back?” Yuuri gasped, gripping Victor’s cheeks tightly as he looked into his eyes. “Victor I--no, never, I--I just I wasn’t sure what you wanted from me. I still don’t.”

“I love you,” Victor breathed, and Yuuri’s breath hitched. “I’m so in love with you I don’t know what to do with myself, and it hurt so much thinking you didn’t feel it too.”

“Of course I do,” Yuuri gasped, shaking his head as if it was the craziest thing he had ever heard. “I love you so much, Victor, I--I thought you could never, so I held myself back. I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable. You coming here to coach me means so much, and I didn’t want to risk that by making you uncomfortable.”   
“Yuuri,” Victor breathed, laughter bubbling from his throat. “Yuuri.” 

“Victor,” Yuuri answered, and then he pushed forward, claiming Victor’s lips with his own. Victor gasped, and then melted into the kiss, tasting Yuuri’s salty tears on his tongue. His lips were chapped and wet from crying but so soft and warm, and they felt perfect against his own, like their lips had been made to fit together. 

Victor held Yuuri tight, and it wasn’t until he heard steps from behind him that he felt Yuuri pull back, flush high on his cheekbones as he looked at whomever was behind Victor. 

“Is not even my smoking space sacred?” Mari asked, and Victor turned towards her, catching her smirk and the gleam of her eyes. A cigarette rested between her fingers, but it was unlit, and she looked at them as she tilied it up and down between her fingers. “Do you have to make out here, when you two have bedrooms?”

“Mari,” Yuuri groaned, burying his face in Victor’s chest. It felt so wonderful--this level of intimacy--and Victor held Yuuri close, loving the heat of his skin against his own. It felt like he could breathe again with Yuuri this close, and he never wanted to stop, not if he didn’t have to. “Why do you have to be so embarrassing?” 

“Tsk,” Mari said, but Victor didn’t have to look back to see her roll her eyes, which he was sure she did, too occupied with letting his hands caress over Yuuri’s back. “Good job, little brother,” she said teasingly, and Yuuri groaned again, the sound joined by Mari’s laughter and the sound of a door sliding shut

Yuuri straightened, and now it was Victor’s turn to cup his cheeks, then tentatively lean forward. Yuuri met him, pressing his lovely lips to Victor’s again, once, twice until they were both breathless and smiling. “Let’s get inside,” Yuuri said, and Victor nodded, kissing him one more time before he let him stand, keeping Yuuri’s hand in his. Yuuri helped pull him up, and Victor’s knees protested, but he still smiled, wrapping an arm around Yuuri’s waist as soon as he could. Yuuri giggled, and Victor kissed him again, just because he could-- just because he wanted to, because Yuuri wanted to. The realisation filled his chest perfectly, and he smiled so wide kissing became impossible. 

Victor looked around as Yuuri pulled away, and realised the vendor hadn’t come for them--or had he made a hasty retreat once he saw Victor was human once more? The only ones in the garden were them and Makka. 

“What happened to the mask?” Victor asked, and then Makka boofed, standing from where she had been laying, the mask laying cracked on the ground. 

“Makka,” Yuuri gasped, and Victor knelt as he laughed, running his hands through her fur. 

“You’re the best girl! Yes, you are! So brave, my hero,” Victor cooed, and Makka licked his hands and face, panting happily. She truly was the best dog. Victor could never have done this without her. 

“Thank you Makka-chan,” Yuuri cooed, and Victor’s heart overflowed as he straightened, pressing his lips to Yuuri’s temple as he wrapped an arm around his shoulders, Yuuri winding one of his own around Victor’s waist. 

They walked inside like that, and only once they reached their rooms did Yuuri stop, looking up at Victor expectantly. Victor smiled, and tilted Yuuri’s chin up. 

“Yuuri, let's sleep together tonight?” he asked softly, and Yuuri nodded, following him into his room. They stripped carefully, leaving them in t-shirts and underwear, before they climbed into bed together. Yuuri curled up on his chest, and Victor’s heart pounded wonderfully against his ribs as he held him tight. 

“Tomorrow you’re telling me all about how you became a cat to avoid me,” Yuuri sighed, and Victor laughed, tilting Yuuri’s head up so he could look him in the eye.

“Tomorrow I’m telling you how I became a cat so you would  _ cuddle _ me,” Victor corrected, and Yuuri smiled, eyes shining as he pushed up to press his lips to Victor’s again. Would he ever tire of that? He didn’t think so. 

“Silly Victor,” Yuuri sighed. “From now on, just ask?”

“Will do,” Victor agreed and then cuddled him close, falling into a warm, comfortable sleep, his Yuuri pressed to his side. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think in the comment section or on other platforms like:  
> [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/linisen) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/mjaoue)


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